


Yesterday's Sunrise

by Bella (bella_azzurri)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Endgame, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3673092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella_azzurri/pseuds/Bella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of change, love and family from Chakotay's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday's Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> I write sagas in my head, pieces end up on paper. Much love and thanks to [Annie D](http://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/profile) for always being the best beta.

When he awoke it was still dark, yet without looking at the chronometer, he knew it was about an hour until dawn. Careful not to jostle the bed too much, he crawled out of bed and dressed.

Quietly shutting the patio door, Chakotay stood momentarily on the deck before seating himself on the bench and closing his eyes. More often than not he did this, coming out here alone before dawn, before the day started, before others things occupied him.

He felt rather than heard her presence. Having been told off once a long time ago, she knew better than to interrupt the quiet. He stayed silent, not acknowledging her presence, letting the pause hang. She waited patiently.

He opened his eyes and turned to her. She was leaning against the wall, watching him. She grinned slightly and broke the silence.

“Want to go for a walk?”

He nodded, extending a hand so she could pull him from his seated position. He tried not to groan, lest she make a smart comment. They moved quietly through the house and out the front door, heading towards the bay. Not so long ago, the sunrise was their moment. He didn’t know when, but she stopped coming. He always felt it was she who had changed, but as they reached their destination overlooking the bay, the sky tinged slightly red, he’d forgotten that this is the first time in many years.

They didn’t speak as the sky became redder, and the first rays of sun began to peek over the horizon. To his surprise, she quietly slipped her hand in his, her warmth inviting and pleasantly familiar. There were no other souls at this hour, and he savoured such moments, once upon a time.

All too soon, the rays of the sun began to illuminate the bay, and the sky lifted from a dark indigo to a brilliant blue. It was going to be a beautiful day.

She broke the silence again, “The market?” She remembers.

He nodded. She let go of his hand as they turned and started walking, but then reached to grasp his elbow in silence towards the market.

She stopped at the coffee stall, picking up handfuls of beans and sniffing their delicate aromas. He left her to purchase items from other stalls, what he hoped would eventually be turned into breakfast. When she finally sought him out, satisfied with her own purchase, he didn’t need to ask - she always chose single origin roasted Colombian, ground fresh by the stall owners.

Again, they walked back in companionable silence. In the kitchen, she expertly maneuvered the coffee machine. Soon, the smell of coffee drifted through the house. He filled a cup and went to the bedroom, placing the cup on the bedside table before going back to the kitchen.

She had pulled out the other items he had bought, and they both moved around each other, him storing the things they didn’t need this morning, her arranging the fruit, bread, eggs, flour and milk on the counter. She then slipped out the patio door.

A sound came from the bedroom, and a few seconds after footsteps became louder as it made its way to the kitchen.

Kathryn placed the half-empty coffee cup on the counter, surveying the other items. The sunlight streaming through the patio’s glass glinted off her loosely braided hair, the red hues now slightly highlighted with silvery grey strands.

“You’ve been out with a younger woman.”

He grinned, “She brought you coffee, though.”

She leaned forward and he did the same, dropping a quick peck on her lips. She tasted of coffee.

“How long has it been?” she asked.

“A while,” he said, “I have to admit, I was surprised. I missed it.”

“I think she missed you, too,” Kathryn said, placing her hand on top of his. He squeezed it, reassuring her.

There was a muffled thump from the wall separating theirs and the Paris home, followed by a clear, “Hey Mom! Dad! Breakfast’s next door!”

Kathryn looked down at her coffee cup, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Chakotay shook his head, chuckling softly. Some things never changed.

The patio door opened again, Kathryn turned and smiled, “Good morning, Miral. Thank you for the coffee.”

“Hi, Nanna. Mom and Dad are up, they’ll be over in a second.” After 18-month old Miral decided it was just fine to climb the 3-foot divider separating their patios whenever she liked to access her adopted grandparents, Chakotay and Tom pulled it down, along with the garden fence, giving her free reign of both homes.

There were still no fences, but Miral had grown. She stopped waking before dawn. The morning ritual they shared faded away. Chakotay recalled a few moments when he’d heard B’Elanna’s bellows through the wall mid-morning, between missions on Voyager. He was sure it woke the neighbourhood, but not a teenaged Miral.

Sometimes though, she would come, but by then she’d stopped holding his hand. He would have to remind her about the coffee beans. It hurt for a while, until Kathryn gently explained that this was part of growing up. He admired his Kathryn’s infinite patience with Miral, which stretched much further than that of B’Elanna’s during what Tom described as, “The surly teenaged years.”

“The benefits of being a grandmother, Chakotay, is you get to shower all the love and deliver little of the discipline,” Kathryn had said once, perhaps during their third date.

Then came Starfleet Academy. The mornings stopped altogether. On Voyager, she would frantically greet him over the subspace comms before asking for his wife, presumably because she’d left her temporal mechanics assignment to the last moment, or to be transferred to her mother, if Kathryn was unavailable. His wife again listened patiently as he vented his sadness.

This morning, Miral would help him make breakfast, most likely pancakes judging by the way she was throwing the flour, eggs and milk into the bowl without much thought. Kathryn will ask to help, and B’Elanna will suggest they set the table outside and slice the fruit. Tom will insist that he make some bacon to go with the pancakes, so he and Miral would make space for him in the kitchen. They would then gather together, talking and laughing as if they had never been apart.

Soon she will graduate from the Academy, and she’s made no secret of her desire for a deep space mission. He and Kathryn have talked about returning to Earth permanently, agreeing to wait until Miral graduated before he took on a teaching position at the Academy; and she back in the arms of the Admiralty, who had allowed her to remain with her husband on Voyager from the day he was shipped out. He would leave ‘their’ ship in Tom’s capable hands, his promotion from First Officer to Captain long overdue. B’Elanna would remain by his side, nothing would tear her away from Tom or the ship. His family would be scattered again, bound only by subspace communications and Starfleet.

Today though, it would feel like yesterday.


End file.
